


Chained (to you)

by VictoriaWitch



Series: Yandere collection [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, Kidnapping, Slightly - Freeform, Stockholm Syndrome, Vaginal Fingering, Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:13:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26224738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VictoriaWitch/pseuds/VictoriaWitch
Summary: Miya Osamu loves you, but maybe a little too strongly for your taste. It's no matter, he knows you'll never leave his side.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Reader
Series: Yandere collection [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1903909
Comments: 8
Kudos: 107





	Chained (to you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChristinaTargaryen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChristinaTargaryen/gifts).



> Yandere Osamu fic for ChristinaTargaryen!   
> Request are open for yandere fics! Accepting characters from Haikyuu, Naruto, BNHA, and HxH.

Your feet pad across the concrete floor, your breathing labored and uneven as you try to shift through the barely lit corridor. The sound of chains clanking together overwhelm your senses, quickly followed by the scrape of metal across a wall. You didn’t know where you were, a basement, some remote bunker, but the schematics didn’t matter. All you cared about was getting away. 

“Doll, _please_ , stop running!” His plea is strained with his budding temper, the red-hot rage he usually keeps so perfectly hidden rearing its ugly head. But you can’t bring yourself to obey his command this time, the taste of freedom teasing your taste buds as more lightly slowly begins to fill the area. 

**~*~*~*~*~**

Miya Osamu had been an enigma to you. While his sunny-haired brother would chatter with you in his typical, wildly unabashed fashion, Osamu would simply observe. He wasn’t mute, he would join your conversation from time to time to offer his own thoughts, but he was nowhere near as open as Atsumu. 

Perhaps that was what caught your attention, the fact his aloofness was simply who he was rather than a trick to gather attention. To appear like the quiet bad boy, a dark, temping promise of something deep with a twist. If you had any idea how accurate that statement was, or how morbidly deranged the ‘twist’ his persona promised was, you would have never allowed yourself to get tangled in his web. 

The start was innocent, sweet, and a tad awkward at times. The rare smiles he offered felt like the most precious and valuable of jewels being bestowed upon you. So accustomed to his deadpan personality, any shift to expose his softer side was a blessing. His affection became more apparent when he moved on from gifting you views of his more charming and playful side to constantly making food for you. If his passion alone for cooking wasn’t enough to make you graciously accept his offering, the delectable smell and mouth-water flavor certainly was. 

As the months passed by, his behavior became more peculiar, especially after officially becoming a couple. Osamu became more suspicious of your outings, constantly asking who you were with, in a tone that made it clear it was a demand to know rather than a simple curiosity. He turned more possessive, always keeping you close to him while out. If someone were to eye you for a second too long, the breath stealing glare he shot in their direction was enough to end the ogling. 

That was months ago, and despite the alarming number of red flags sprouting in front of you, you brushed them off as insecurities in a new relationship. Wrong, horribly wrong. Osamu’s love presented in pristine packaging with an ornate bow on top when it should have been wrapped in fluorescent caution tape. He’d devolved into full mania since then, you weren’t allowed to go out without him. He kept strict tabs on your phone and computer, monitoring any interaction you had with others. Social media was banned, any accounts you had now inactive and left untouched. 

It was too much to deal with but leaving him on your own wasn’t something feasible. If you were to break free of his talon-like clutches, it would require the assistance of another. Being Osamu’s twin, and the reason the two of you had met, Atsumu seemed like the perfect person to liberate you from the controlling monster that had devoured your soft Osamu. To say he wasn’t loving or affectionate would be a crass lie, in fact, he was far too much to handle. He never stopped showering you with gifts, making your favorite meals, or running baths for the two of you after a stressful day. But his wicked ways had a habit of showing at the slightest sign of what he deemed insubordination. Just as quick as his hands were to caress you skin, they were quicker to lash out in his full wrath. But once you were subdued to a whimpering mess of apologies and promises to never leave, he’d soothe the pain by littering kisses against you. 

So, when he offered his car to Atsumu so you and the blonde twin could run to the market, you tried to reason your escape. You told Atsumu, with tears streaming down your face, of how cruel and manipulative Osamu could be. Of how much he terrified you. How much even hearing him say “I love you” made your blood run ice cold, because with him you knew he’d love you until death did you part. And that was the only thing that would ever break you from him. “Please don’t take me back,” you begged, wide doe-eyes staring through the terror-stricken twin. When he slowed the car before pulling it onto a side street to a complete stop, your heart skipped a beat. He was going to help you escape, he was going to break you free of his wretched brothers iron-grip. But all hope died the moment you heard the car doors lock. You already knew Osamu had a special feature on his vehicle that allowed the lock to drop inside the door, making manually pulling the latch free impossible. That knowledge didn’t stop you from looking, in hopes that maybe that soul shattering click was Atsumu unlocking the door for you to run. “‘T-‘Tsumu,” you looked back at him through blurred pools of tears, mouth gaped open in chilled shock. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, gaze locked on his hands clutching the steering wheel in a bone-white grip. 

You shook your head before turning your body, desperately clawing at the tiny hole the lock vanished inside of, “no. No, no, no, no!” One of Atsumu’s arms wrapped around you, pinning your arms to your side and your back against his chest as your writhed. 

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated before a prickly sting pierced the junction of your neck and shoulder, a burning heat flooding through the area before the world faded to black and your body went limp. 

When you finally woke up, you weren’t in your home. The bedroom you were in was devoid of any hint of life, no sentiment brought in to comfort you. The prison you were punished with for trying to escape was far colder than your previous, and you suddenly felt yourself wishing to take it all back. 

**~*~*~*~*~*~**

You don’t know how long has passed since then. It could be a year, maybe a few months. With the way time drags on in your concrete cell, it could have only been a few days. Aside from Osamu checking in on you during the times he drops off breakfast and then sticks around following his regular work hours, you have nothing to keep you company. Before you used to dread seeing him, the sound of his shoes pattering across the ground immobilizing you on spot. Now, you craved for his visits, the gently pets he would offer you, how he would so delicately wash you in the shower, as if the slightest bit of pressure would crumble you to ash. 

Osamu presses a gently kiss against your neck, right behind your ear just as he lets the washcloth float to the bottom of the tub. You lean into the touch, humming softly in contempt. He smiles against your damp skin, slowly leaving a trail of butterfly kisses down the expanse of your neck and shoulder. 

“Osamu,” you moan quietly, shifting in the pool of suds as your thighs clench together, liquid need beginning to pool in your lower stomach. He chuckles, the sound low and heady, the soft moans and mewls you let out for him rushing straight to his cock. He was on a time crunch, needing to meet with Atsumu and still run to the store, but he could at least spare a few minutes to indulge you some. After all, you’d been such a good girl for him lately. 

He continues to let his teeth graze across your flesh as one of his hands trails down your body, cupping around the side of your breast before ghosting over your ribs and waist. When his hand graces over the top of your thigh, your legs spread, encouraging him to move to the apex. “Eager, aren’t cha?” He snickers, his middle and ring finger teasing your folds. His lips pull into a teasing smirk, slipping both fingers into you up to his first knuckle, “so wet and I’ve barely touched ya. You want it that bad?” You moan, fighting the urge to grab his wrist and force him deeper. Nodding eagerly, your leg twitches as his fingers wiggle deeper, slowly stretching you. 

“Please, Osamu,” your hips twitch with need, knowing how easily he can find the spongy spot inside that sends your eyes rolling to the back of your skull. Watching you so desperate and needy makes him want to draw it all out, tease you until you’re a mess of tears and incoherent babbles, but he doesn’t have the time tonight. Without warning, he pistons his fingers into your throbbing core, groaning at the way your soft walls flutter around his digits. He curls inside you, the ‘come hither’ motion rubbing right against your most sensitive spot. Your head falls back, hand gripping the side of the tub as you quickly reach your peak. His thumb brushes your clit a few times, switching between circular motions and side swipes. “Osamu!” His name falls off your lips in a cry of pleasure, legs jerking and stomach knotting as you release on his fingers. 

“Sucha good girl,” he purrs, slowly withdrawing from inside you to quickly wash away the slick sticking to you. You exit the tub as the water drains, Osamu wrapping a towel around you before guiding you back to the bedroom. He leaves you in the middle of the room as he gathers clean clothes for you to change into, soft pajamas that feel like clouds against your sensitive skin. You stand with eyes closed in bliss, savoring the feeling of him dressing you. You fully expect him to undress and join you in bed, but instead you hear the dreaded sound of metal clinking together. 

Your eyes snap open in a wild panic, backing away as he comes closer, shackles in hand. “No,” you plea desperately, voice soft and cracking along with your brief sense of comfort. 

Osamu sighs, running a hand through his silver locks, “C’mon, doll. Don’t be that way, ‘s for yer own good.” 

“No!” The concrete wall meets your back, the rough surface scratching along the smooth fabric of your shirt and pants. Osamu growls, quickly growing tired of your refusal to cooperate. The softness of his neutral expression turns dark, stormy orbs blowing over like the black of clouds before a hurricane. He slams a hand against the wall, directly beside your head. It’s enough to make you cower in fear, trying to recoil from him, but having nowhere to go. Using your flighty response to his advantage, he managed to clip one of the cuffs around your wrist. 

Something in you switches the moment that icy metal meets your warm skin, and the chained hand comes up before whipping across his face. His neck snaps to the side, stunned and immobilized by your brash decision. Your legs move before your brain can process the consequences of your action, or the reality of what you even did. He left the bedroom door open, something he’s been doing more frequently since you started to regain your comfortability around him. 

That’s how you find yourself darting through the halls of whatever frigid hell he has been keeping you in. Frantically searching for a way out despite the pang in your heart at the idea of leaving him. You love him, the soft side of him, the parts of him that love and nurture you like a man deep in love. But the rest of him, his possessiveness, his explosive anger, every yandere tendency pushes you away. 

“Doll!” Both of you skid to a stop, the exit mere feet in front of you. You can practically hear the serenity of life haunting you from the other side, the golden glow of the setting sun seeping under the crack at the base of the door. Freedom is a skip and a jump away, but you look at him. Gray fringe tousled across his forehead, dark eyes wide and brimmed with his liquid apology for scaring you away. Crimson seeps down the side of his face, his wound a reminder of your betrayal. Trapped between the man you love and the chance at true happiness, you falter. 

Do you stay, or do you go? 

**Author's Note:**

> Requests can be made in the comments or on my twitter @VictoriaWitch2


End file.
